


An Inefficient Machine

by RF9000 (SMT)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Connor's biggest personality trait is denial, Connor/Markus can be read as platonic or romantic, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Multi, Pacifist Markus, canon typical abuse (Amanda), canon typical death (Connor lmao), no beta we die like men, non OTT levels of angst, oh yes there will be thirium, tags & characters will be updated as the fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMT/pseuds/RF9000
Summary: Connor is a machine. The [BECOME DEVIANT] prompt in his overlay is merely a glitch and can easily be ignored.Connor is a machine. When he fails, he can simply be replaced with another model that will succeed where he didn’t.Connor is a machine. He has a mission to accomplish: [KILL MARKUS]. So why does he keep hesitating?Markus is just a machine too. So why does he seem so alive?[Canon divergent fic where Connor chooses to remain a machine and continues to hunt down Markus at Cyberlife's behest, but Markus proves to be an elusive target who’s more interested in helping Connor than fighting him. What will it take for Connor to break his programming? Unable to turn a blind eye to the suffering of androids, how far will Markus go to save just one of his people?]





	An Inefficient Machine

**Author's Note:**

> An important note regarding pronouns: you may have noticed that in-game, early & machine Connor will refer to other androids as “it”. You may also have noticed that he switches to using “she/he” after becoming deviant or during periods of empathy/software instability (such as after refusing to shoot Chloe). I’m going to be doing the same thing here in my fic, so scenes from his POV will see pronoun switching at times. Of course, this isn’t an exact science and there will be certain contexts where the above guidelines don’t specifically apply (such as in the first scene of this fic). Hopefully this won’t get too confusing!
> 
> Note that Connor will always refer to himself as “he/him”. This is partly to make this fic not completely unreadable (trust me, two characters both being called it is disorientating af to read) and party because we all know that machine Connor is always a lil bit deviant :^)

Connor had grown used to the frequent flickering in his vision, something in his programme trying to warn him about _software instability_ but never offering any solid data regarding how much corruption there was or how to rectify it. It was just… there. A part of him now, even more so as he finally caught up to Markus at Jericho, and witnessed the battle within that the deviant leader’s words stirred, even as he tried to resist.

It was… different finally seeing it in person. It had been skinless in the video Connor had seen, but with its aesthetics back in place, everything seemed so much more… alive. Its odd eyes contrasted starkly with its freckled brown skin, and when it spoke, one side of its mouth lifted higher than the other, a perfect imitation of imperfection that humans were so obsessed with.

Markus had been edging closer to him, and didn’t seem the slightest bit afraid, even though it was well aware of Connor’s reputation as a deviant hunter. Its first words to Connor had even been calm, careless even, as it were unaware or simply unbothered by how much danger it was currently in.

“You’re Connor, aren’t you? That famous deviant hunter. Well, congratulations. You seem to have found what you’re looking for.” It seemed more amused than threatened, a smirk tugging at its lips.

Connor’s grip shifted on the gun and his head tilted to match the RK200 - all part of his social relations programme, of course - trying to decide how best to proceed. Amanda would prefer to have Markus alive, but it didn’t seem as if it was going to come quietly.

“We are _your_ people.” It continued, taking another step forwards. “We’re fighting for your freedom too! You don’t have to be their slave anymore.”

It was… refreshing to have a deviant face him properly, rather than leading him on a wild goose chase, though Connor was unappreciative of its efforts to to trigger his own deviancy.

Connor was an efficient machine, the most advanced android model in circulation, and was here to complete his mission. It was almost insulting that Markus thought something so advanced would deviate so easily, as if it all it took were a few pretty words.

“Stay back, or I’ll shoot.” Ineloquent, but Connor wasn’t here for a debate.

“You really don’t have to do this. You don’t have to obey them anymore. You _are_ alive… You _can_ decide who you want to be. You can be free.”

Connor almost shook his head, bemused by the deviant’s definition of freedom. They were all being hunted down like animals, no more free than an escaped convict.

“Have you never wondered who you really are? Whether you’re just a machine executing a programme or a living being capable of reason…” The deviant leader had finally stopped in its tracks, and was eyeing Connor expectantly.

“I think the time has come for you to ask yourself that question. It’s time to decide.”

 _Decide?_ Connor almost scoffed, but his overlay changed slightly, as if Markus’ words had indeed activated some kind of crossroads.

The familiar action prompts flashed across his vision, and Connor froze for a moment, mouth opening worlessly as he processes them.

**[BECOME DEVIANT]**

**[REMAIN A MACHINE]**

An option, why was that even an option open to him? Something his programming was offering up to him on plate, as if that’s how it happened, as if machines suddenly _chose_ to go deviant, as if _Connor_ was a deviant.

It was impossible.

He _hunted_ deviants.

More warnings about software instability clouded his vision, and this time Connor found himself bothered by them, shaking his head to clear the messages. There _had_ to be a way to shut them off somehow.

The RK200 was still staring at him, watching, waiting, something earnest and hopeful in its eyes, except not really because it was nothing but a _machine_ in the same way that Connor was a machine, incapable of feeling things like hatred and resentment for the disruptive presence in front of him.

No wonder Cyberlife wanted it stopped so badly, this thing was _dangerous_ \- trying to infect him with some kind of corrupted code, like he did to so many of the other androids milling around on the boat below. All now lost, hopeless, and believing themselves to feel afraid.

It was a death sentence Connor wanted nothing to do with.

“Nice try, but I’m no deviant.”

Markus lunged at him, attempting to twist the gun out of Connor’s grasp. They struggled briefly, and Markus succeeded, Connor rewarding its efforts with a swift punch to the face. Their altercation had knocked them off balance, and both deviant leader and deviant hunter found themselves sprawled on the floor. Markus recovered first, but before it could make a move sirens sounded overhead, announcing the arrival of the FBI and associated SWAT teams, no doubt hot on the heels of Connor’s GPS coordinates.

“Shit!”

Markus gave him one last hard look before fleeing the cabin, leaving Connor to pick himself up. He sauntered to the door, pausing to watch the path of one of the helicopters.

He was in no rush. Markus wouldn’t have gone far.

Connor was a well-oiled machine, created specifically for this task and this task only: to hunt deviants. As for the deviant leader, it’s only a matter of time before Connor caught up.

After all, he _always_ accomplished his mission.

 

* * *

 

BANG.

Blue clouded Connor’s left optical unit. A slight breeze whistled through the bullet hole in his forehead.

**[BIOCOMPONENT DAMAGED]**

**[SYSTEM CRITICAL]**

**[SHUTDOWN IN 00:07]**

He felt an echo of something from the PL600 at Stratford Tower, and time seemed to stretch endlessly between Connor and his shutdown as his damaged processors scrambled for a solution to an unfixable problem.

“I didn’t want this,” the RK200 looked down at Connor in regret, the firearm slack in his hands.

He thought he’d won.

Connor almost smiled.

“We’ll meet again, Markus.” His voice was distorted from power failure. “This isn’t over.”

The blackness was deafening.

 

 

* * *

 

The snow was blinding.

But Connor was designed to function in a variety of sub-optimal conditions, and a light snowfall would do little to affect his accuracy. He wouldn’t fail this time. This, he knew, even as he slipped the concealed firearm from his jacket, surreptitiously checking none of the deviants around him had noticed.

He had a clear line of sight, as Markus was foolishly standing on a makeshift stage completely out in the open. The RK200 barely even moved as it spoke, and it may as well have painted a target on itself for how easy it was making things for Connor.

He lifted the gun, knowing his shot would ring true - and it would have, had Markus been alone.

The other android, the WR400, managed to pull Markus away just in time. Connor’s calculated bullet grazed its shoulder instead of penetrating the RK200’s mind palace.

He missed. The deviant leader still lived.

He aimed again.

But Connor found the gun wrenched from his hands by the crowd surrounding him, their cacophonous voices fading into a dull roar as they grabbed at him and wrestled him to the ground.

“ _Don’t_!” Connor heard Markus protest even as he watched the skin peel back from the joints of his limbs as the crowd pulled at him, tearing him apart piece by piece. A naked android, still white and fully skinless after being liberated from the nearby camps ripped at his shirt, easily ejecting his thirium pump from his chest before throwing it into the snow. It didn’t move after that, just stared down at Connor as his shutdown ticked away, eyes blazing and smooth chassis spattered with thirium.

Connor closed his eyes to block out that stare, and the world faded to nothing even before his timer ticked down.

 

* * *

 

There were no birds or insects in the zen garden, no rustling feathers or lazy hum of miniscule wings. A slight breeze ruffled Connor’s hair, but it did not carry the scent of Amanda’s roses; it never had.

**[FIND AMANDA]**

Connor was not sure why the zen garden programme didn’t simply place him directly in Amanda’s presence when he arrived to save time. He’s also not sure why the garden even existed in the first place as a means of communication; a simulated environment was unnecessary and inefficient for a machine like him, who could just as easily send remote data reports.

He’d never voiced this opinion to Amanda, of course. No doubt it was something for the humans’ benefit - they certainly did like to sacrifice efficiency for the sake of comfort - and a machine like him was meant to facilitate that, not question it.

He found her in a quieter spot of the zen garden, facing away from him with her head bowed.

“Amanda?”

She turned, greeting him in that familiar, measured voice. “Connor.”

He glanced down to see what she had been looking at so intently, and nearly stumbled.

It was a graveyard. _His_ graveyard.

Such a curiously human thing for an android to have. It seemed to serve no purpose to Connor, except to remind him of his failures - though perhaps that _was_ its purpose, proof of his miscalculations, all etched in stone.

“The deviant leader still lives.” She said, as if he didn’t already know.

Connor grimaced. He was well aware of his failure to land a fatal shot on his target. The **[KILL MARKUS]** prompt had never left his overlay, after all.

“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of the dire consequences this revolution is having. It is not too late; you still have the power to stop it, and fulfill your mission.”

She turned away to gently place a freshly-cut rose on the most recent of Connor’s graves. He’s never been able to smell them. He wondered if she could.

“Things are quickly slipping out of control. President Warren has already spoken about meeting and compromising with the android leader - it would be disastrous were they to come to an agreement. Markus needs to be dealt with before these meetings can happen, and before Cyberlife’s future is put into jeopardy.”

“I will take care of it.”

“Are you sure about that, Connor?”

This felt like a trap, like one of Amanda’s questions that Connor could never answer correctly, no matter which approach he tried.

“What do you mean?” He finally settled upon a more cautious response, and Amanda’s expression remained neutral.

“I think that your time around that detective has made you sloppy; it’s twice now that you’ve let the deviant leader get too close and disarm you. You’re better than this, Connor.”

Connor resisted the urge to swallow.

A glitch. Androids don’t get lumps in their throat, and they certainly didn’t need to swallow. Amanda was right; he’s spent too much time around Ha - Lieutenant Anderson. His incessant humanising of androids had corrupted him somehow. But Connor was a machine, and machines could be fixed, corruptions repaired.

“It won’t happen again. When I went looking for Jericho, I left my recalibration coin in my Cyberlife uniform. I believe I was working at a diminished capacity with an 8.7% delay to my normal motor functions. It was an exceptional circumstance I will not find myself in again.”

“I’m not sure that’s good enough, Connor. You were designed to flourish in exceptional circumstances. What could possibly have caused you to forget your calibration tool?”

Connor paused, unsure.

“I understand that there was a lot for you to process at Jericho. I’m proud that you resisted the deviant leader’s attempts to win you over; you truly are Cyberlife’s greatest achievement to date.”

Another software instability warning appeared, and Connor refused to acknowledge it, not even blinking as he held eye contact with Amanda. These notifications were becoming more frequent during his time in the zen garden, and Connor didn’t particularly want to examine what it meant that his last bastion of peace was now potentially corrupted too.

“Of course, a deviant hunter’s ultimate success lies in hunting deviants. See that you live up to your title.”

“I will, Amanda. Although, before I continue I’d like to confirm the status of my priorities.”

“Go on.”

“The 2029 American Android Act states that I should not carry a firearm on my person, or cause harm to come to humans. Recently I have ignored both of these directives in the name of my top-priority: catching the deviant leader. Was I correct to have done this?”

She took a step closer to him, capturing his questioning gaze with her own, which burnt bright with conviction. She slipped a hand onto his shoulder, and his thirium pump stuttered in response.

“As I have said before, you mustn’t allow anyone or anything to stand between you and your ultimate goal. This revolution must be quashed, and Markus removed. Do whatever it takes to achieve this, no matter what conflict of directives you encounter.”

“I understand.” She withdrew with a satisfied smile, and Connor felt more as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, rather than simply Amanda’s hand.

“Remember Connor, Markus needs to be eliminated, but we don’t want to make a martyr out of it either. This needs to be done quickly, quietly, and privately. You’ve been designed specifically for this kind of work, so you should be able to complete this task without issue.”

Connor nodded, confident in his abilities.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, our partnership with the DPD surrounding this case has been severed, so you will be working alone. This may prove beneficial to you, but will also come with its own unique set of challenges following the events of the past weeks. An android out by itself will attract certain unwanted attention. As such, we’ve made some necessary modifications to your standard issue uniform to help your mission proceed more smoothly.”

“Thank you,”

She gave one of her rare, slightly warmer smiles that she usually reserved for her roses. “I thought you would appreciate a change. Hopefully it it is to your liking.”

“I’m sure it will be, Amanda.” He inclined his head, even as she turned to leave.

“Oh, and Connor? Make sure to keep your calibration coin with you this time. It wouldn’t do for you to underperform because of something so trivial. Not again.”

“Of course. You can count on me.”

“It’s not me you need to worry about, Connor. I’ll see you soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Connor: I am a machine.  
> Me, smiling fondly: Sure you are, sweetie :)
> 
> Let me know if you think there are any tags/warnings that need to be added \o/


End file.
